Multiverses

The world we live in is too small for our imaginations and yet so big for our desires.

Dilli, 2018

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

When Charles Dickens wrote the starting lines in his book, “A tale of two cities”, what must have crossed his mind? The lines so relevant and truer than the truth that it makes them so universal. It can fit in any book as its opening, be it fiction or non-fiction, be it a literature or a business book, the meaning changes with the subject but the essence remains the same. Such is the beauty of literature and of great writers. I still have not read the book, though I keep going back there to read its first page.

Somewhere in my heart, there is a fear that I will read it and I won’t get it the way I want to get it. For the same reason, I keep it as one of the many things that I am saving for future. Including the movie Inception.

Just like this, I wanted to keep Cosmos by Carl Sagan for my future-self. I got it as my birthday present a few months back, and it is still lying in my shelf. On getting it, I read a few pages but kept it aside thinking that I am too naive to get it. Though, as far as I know of Carl Sagan, he would have said, go, read it. Read it again if you don’t get it but start it.

Some people keep on living even after they die. Maybe, this is how they came up with “what is dead may never die” as a motto for one of the houses in TV series, Game of Thrones. The artists live in their art, and sometimes, die for the same. Like Socrates. Poor fellow asked way too many questions and made us realise words, indeed have power.

Words may have power but it is the sentences that harness their potential. Words are arrow and the sentences, bow. It is how both exert power. It is how commanders used them, for centuries. Before the war, telling the soldiers about how the fight is bigger than those fighting it, motivating them, and making them believe that how they are a part of something bigger. And on the battleground, when the bow has been set up, leaving the arrow, “Attack”.

Words are arrow and the sentences, bow.

Harari, in his book, “Sapiens” provided me a new perspective altogether when he said, we humans are so fond of telling and listening to stories.

Everything, in our materialistic world, is a part of some fiction. Religion and money being the most favourite of human race.

This reality, when confronted, makes you question so many things at once. Do our lives actually have meaning? Or just because we are made to believe it does, we do things all our life? The most intelligent species on earth? Maybe, not. At least, ducks are not going to jobs they don’t like so they can have food. Pandas are not losing their sleep because they have exams tomorrow. It always occurs to me what do animals think of time? Though, there are some animals who prepare for the winter season, they must have some notion of the change in seasons. But, do they care about how long they are going to live or their children should live in this world forever.

There have been stories of people who have met living beings that are not from this planet. Not sure, how many of them are true. But, in case, they are, we have a whole lot to do. Or maybe, we can wait to be found. In our dreams, for example, we may teleport in time, in a different universe altogether. How does it feel to be in a different place altogether? Magical, weird, scary, or a feeling we have not named yet.

Dreams are a weird place to be, paradise and hell co-exists there and so multiverses and so our visual representation of imaginations. Or, for some people, they have the skill to imagine so well without dreaming. Is it how Samuel came up with his poem, “The Rime of Ancient Mariner”. All those supernatural things, in a far away place, in the midst of nowhere.

Reality and fiction have always been like forts and emperors. One, incomplete without the other. Though, no one knows whose existence is more dependent over the other. They may exist exclusive of each other but our past have rarely seen something like that. The common thread that connects reality and fiction have been stories. Stories, long or short, real or made-up, interesting or boring have always been something that everyone looks at. In the forts and emperors analogy, stories can be regarded as the throne. Many come and go but it still remains there with everyone waiting to hear what it has to say.

The questions remain the same and the answers lost. Which stories do you believe in? What stories make you you? What if we exist in multi universes at the same time?

Too many questions, too few answers.

Maybe, Socrates started it right.